


Improv Isn't Easy

by Htaedfoeyegnitaolf



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Friendship, Gen, High School AU, Humor, Justice Cabal, Open to Interpretation, Shakespeare Quotations, Slight OOC, but for a good reason, improv games, mentions of characters from Sacred Stones, theatre/drama class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3105917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Htaedfoeyegnitaolf/pseuds/Htaedfoeyegnitaolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate universe where the FE:A kids are in high school and Owain and Cynthia are diehard Drama dorks, while Inigo is the slightly more shy one who's in the class because of a broad appreciation for the performing arts in general. This was inspired by a few of my experiences within my own drama class, mostly from playing improv games. Also, Frederick is the dean. Special guest appearance by Tethys, and special guest mentions by Ewan and Saleh.</p><p>Contains hints of Cynthia/Owain, but it can be friendship or romance depending on how you choose to look at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Improv Isn't Easy

**Author's Note:**

> A "cabal" is any group of people who come together under a common scheme, which can be anywhere from a band of fighters to a theatre troupe. I didn't know that at the time of writing this, but it made for a nice, if unintended, little detail. Who says the Justice Cabal can't do more than fight the forces of evil?

The drama class was alive and bustling. Teenagers gathered around in their usual social groups, standing in clumps or sitting on top of nearby desks. The chatter of the room blended with the prattle of one particular group off to the side.

 

“And I was like, 'thou will cease thine iniquities, evildoer, or else I shall summon Mr. Frederick's wrath upon you!'” Owain boasted. He was leaning over his desk as he recounted the events of that morning. Cynthia listened eagerly. Inigo was less thrilled, standing against the wall with his arms crossed.

 

“Please,” he scoffed. “You have to do better than threaten to get the dean.”

 

“It worked, though! The guy realized his error and walked away in shame.”

 

“I'm pretty sure he was just trying to get away from you.”

 

“That's not important! What really matters is that you did the right thing. Good job, Owain!” Cynthia clapped him on the shoulder and grinned.

 

“Thank you! At least someone appreciates my heroic efforts around here.”

 

In a flippant gesture, Inigo clapped Owain on his other shoulder. “Ah yes, you stopped a guy from changing a teacher's computer background to an internet meme. Congrats, hero. By the way, who exactly was the guy you outed?”

 

“Alright, children, sit down!” The drama teacher yelled to be heard over everyone's noise. Cynthia immediately turned to go to her assigned seat on the opposite side of the room, almost tripping over Owain's backpack in the process. While it was unanimously agreed that she and Owain were excellent acting partners, having the two of them together in any other situation proved to be too much to handle. Inigo took his seat in the desk right behind Cynthia's.

 

“Now, I know some of you won't be happy that our Shakespeare unit is ending...”

 

“Nooo!” A contiguous cry erupted from the students. Cynthia expectantly looked over at Owain. Surely enough, he was clutching at his chest dramatically.

 

The teacher continued. “However, I thought we'd do something fun today—something to help us transition into our next unit.”

 

On the teacher's desk sat a timer, a sizable deck of cards, and a small bucket full of strips of paper.

 

“I'm going to draw two names from this bucket. If your name is drawn, you'll come to the front of the room and pick a card. These cards here have quotes from various Shakespeare plays. You and your partner will then have five minutes to improvise a scene that incorporates your Shakespeare quote.”

 

A mix of murmurs spread throughout the class upon hearing the word “improvise.”

 

“I volunteer!”

 

“Sit down, Owain. You have to wait until your name is picked. Everyone will get a turn; don't worry.”

 

Cynthia drummed her fingertips on her desk. Her eyes were glued to the bucket as the teacher drew out the first strip of paper. The teacher took a second to read it, then smiled.

 

“Psh. Alright, Owain, get your butt over here.”

 

“Twas my destiny to be chosen so!” Triumphantly, he sauntered to the front of the room.

 

“You sound confident now, but you might just find out that this game is harder than you think,” the teacher teased. The names in the bucket were stirred a bit before another strip of paper was drawn.

 

Cynthia crossed her fingers. Repeatedly, she whispered “Please be me, please be me, please be me...”

 

Behind her, Inigo whispered “Please _don't_ be me, please _don't_ be me, please _don't_ be me...”

 

“And our lucky winner is... Ewan!”

 

Cynthia slumped over her desk and let out an exaggerated sigh.

 

“Um,” said a redheaded student, raising her hand. “Ewan's not here.”

 

Immediately, Cynthia popped back up.

 

“He's not? Tethys, where is your brother?”

 

“At the dean's office. Apparently, he was caught playing a prank on Mr. Saleh again.”

 

“What did he do this time?”

 

“Something about changing the background on his computer to something inappropriate.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Inigo snorted. From across the room, Owain's face beamed with pride. “I should have known...”

 

“Well then, in that case...” said the teacher, stirring the names in the bucket again. Cynthia held her breath. The feeling of anticipation was so strong that it was suffocating. If Owain's name could be picked by some miracle, then just maybe...

 

Slowly, a single slip was pulled from the bucket. There was a slight pause as its contents were read.

 

“Come on up, Cynthia.”

 

“Yes!” She bounded from her seat to the front of the room, where a very enthusiastic Owain gave her a high-five.

 

“Alright, now both of you pick a card and read it out loud to the class,” the teacher said. The duo obliged, drawing the top two cards.

 

Cynthia read hers aloud first. “Jealousy is the green-eyed monster.”

 

“That's from Othello,” the teacher explained.

 

“For goodness' sake,” Owain read.

 

“That's from--”

 

“Henry VIII! The allegedly true story of the corruption of royalty and the bitter consequences of allowing oneself to be overcome by the greed for ultimate power. An interesting tale indeed, if one of the less popular ones,” Owain declared.

 

“Nerd!”

 

“Yes, Inigo, we all know you are.”

 

A chorus of “Ooooooooh...!” arose from the class, especially Cynthia. Inigo simply laid back in his desk, blushing and looking away.

 

“Alright, enough! The timer is set for five minutes. You know what you have to do.”

 

And with that, the timer started. Immediately, the two students at the front of the room were not Cynthia and Owain, but two completely different characters.

 

“Good evening, ma'am,” greeted the young gentleman, tipping an imaginary hat. “I presume you are on your way to the ball?”

 

“Yes, good sir! My elegant gown must have given it away,” said the young lady, smoothing out her invisible skirt.

 

“Well then, it appears we are headed toward the same place. Unfortunately, I find myself without a partner to dance with. Perhaps, milady, if you are available...”

 

“Oh, actually, I wasn't going to dance at the ball. I was going to crash it.”

 

“Oh yeah, me too! I mean, it's the twenty-first century, for goodness' sake! Who goes to balls anymore? Am I right?”

 

“Who wants to be dancing in these stupid, uncomfortable dresses all night? Not me, bro.” The young lady mimed ripping off her dress, causing the young gentleman to reel back in surprise.

 

“Whoa! We're still in public, you know!”

 

“I have clothes on underneath.”

 

“Really? That's too bad...”

 

“Excuse you?!”

 

The class screamed with laughter, including the teacher. It took every ounce of Cynthia's willpower to keep from breaking character. She steeled herself and continued to glare viciously at Owain, but she could feel her face turning red.

 

“Did you seriously think I was going to let you see me naked?”

 

“No, you see, what I meant was... well, crashing that ball with you would have been awesome, but you need to be properly dressed or else they won't let you in. Yeah, that's it.”

 

“Too late for that now.”

 

“Yeah. That dress was hideous anyway.”

 

“So now you're insulting my fashion sense?”

 

“Girl, if you think a half lip stitch on China silk is this May's Vogue, then you got _no_ sense!”

 

“Slaaaaaaay,”went someone in the audience, prompting more laughter. Cynthia froze in place. Owain was way too good at this! Taking a deep breath, she pushed the thought from her head. On the battlefield of improv, thinking was a mistake that got you killed.

 

“This is coming from the guy wearing a fedora! Newsflash: fedoras are not classy.”

 

The young gentleman's face flashed with an indignant look, then changed into a look of acceptance. “Well, you got me there.” He took off his hat and threw it beside the ripped dress. “I guess we might have a few things in common after all. If you want, we can go somewhere else and hang out, just the two of us.”

 

Where was he trying to go with this? Cynthia couldn't help but wonder.

 

“You have one minute remaining,” the teacher interrupted. “Cynthia, you need to say your line.”

 

“Uh...” Cynthia visibly tensed, shooting a wide-eyed glance at the teacher. Panic welled up within her, not only because of the fact that she had completely forgotten her line, but also because she had just broken character. Her mouth opened to say something else, but no words came out. If only she hadn't been given such a difficult quote to work with! She looked over at Owain, but he didn't make eye contact with her. Instead, he seemed to be heavily concentrated on something else. The silence in the room lasted for a few seconds, but to Cynthia, it felt like hours. She had to make something up quickly.

 

Finally, the young gentleman said “Of course, if you don't want to, that's fine. We wouldn't want to make some people jealous, or anything like that.”

 

“Shut up!” The young lady shouted and pointed her finger like a gun at him. Instantly, the young gentleman raised his hands and froze. Cynthia herself was a little surprised, but there was no other option but to run with it. She stepped toward him, and got so close to his face that she could see the shock in his eyes. Then, she said in a voice low and threatening “Of course you would know about jealousy, you murderer.”

 

With her other hand, the young lady grabbed her victim by his shirt and forced him onto his knees in front of her. She pressed the tip of her gun to the back of his head.

 

“I know you killed my brother. He had money; he had fame. He was everything you always wanted to be. He was everything you never could be. And you know how the saying goes: jealousy is the green-eyed monster...”

 

“Okay, time's up!” the teacher cut in. “Now stop before Cynthia kills someone.”

 

“Oh thank Naga!” Owain breathed. Cynthia reached out a hand to help him up. The two could only chuckle nervously as the rest of the class applauded their performance. While the teacher was busy sifting through the names in the bucket for two more, the kids began heading back toward their seats.

 

“I am so sorry, Owain.”

 

“No, it's cool. I should have been paying more attention. I was about to end the scene before I realized you hadn't said your line yet. You did a good job getting it in there.”

 

“Yeah, right...” Cynthia muttered under her breath and slunk into her desk. Her chest was still burning on the inside with nervous energy, but now it burned with a mix of embarrassment. It didn't help that she could sense Inigo staring at her from behind.

 

“Hey, if it's any consolation, I thought you made a convincing villain. I never knew you had it in you. Have you been talking to Noire recently?”

 

“I panicked, okay? I couldn't just stand there like a deer in the headlights!”

 

“I'm just teasing you. But being completely serious here, Owain was acting pretty weird too.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You didn't notice how he was trying to hit on you the entire time?”

 

“I figured it was a character decision.”

 

“Perhaps. Actually, that reminds me of something. Some say that improv shows what people are feeling deep in their subconscious.”

 

“Who says that?”

 

“People with too much time on their hands, most likely.”

 

More students were called to the front of the room to do their scenes. Some of them were hilarious to watch, while others fell flat. At the back of her mind, Cynthia contemplated Inigo's words. What if Owain's performance really said something about the way he felt? Perhaps more importantly, what if her own performance really said something about the way she felt?

 

That was when Cynthia decided that it was best not to think too hard about these things.

 


End file.
